Friday, November 10, 2017

#447 The Trials of the Single Partygoer

This weekend I am going to a party.  Friends (a married couple) are having an open house to show off their newly-remodeled house.  Here is what goes through my head as a single person attending a party by myself. 

Steve and Susie are great biking friends of mine.  They are fun and I’m looking forward to seeing them and their new house.  However, I only know them and a couple of Steve’s bike friends, whom I’ve also occasionally ridden with.  I don’t know his friends’ wives.  I don’t know any of Steve and Susie’s other friends.  As a solo attendee, I feel awkward having to “work the room” making small talk.  I want a wing man!  There is the excitement of going, yet the dread of not knowing anyone.  As an intermittent extrovert, parties make me swing to the introvert spectrum. 

But then I think about if I actually had a wing man.  Yes, I would have someone to fall back on and talk to, but wouldn’t meet as many new people. I would also have to introduce him, which brings the panic of me being horrible at remembering names. 

Prior to one of my high school reunions, I had similar feelings of angst.  My high school friends I saw regularly refused to attend.  I was adamant to go.  As I walked into the venue, I prayed, “Lord, please help me to have a good time.”  I had a blast.  I was free to roam as I pleased.  At dinner I sat next to a volleyball teammate and her husband, and our legendary former janitor.  All was ok. 

This party is not on a reunion level, but I still feel some trepidation.  And for the record, I would still rather have a wing-man/partner in crime.  Until that happens, I’ll do what I always do - put my big girl pants on, hold my head high and say a silent prayer to have a good time.

Let’s get this party started.